


Seven Songs for Seven Summoners

by volta_arovet



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-22
Updated: 2010-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volta_arovet/pseuds/volta_arovet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bonds between Summoners and Aeons, from their first meeting until death, and after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Songs for Seven Summoners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [corollary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corollary/gifts).



> Spoilers for the entire game abound.
> 
> I use a few obscure/optional characters in here, so just as a refresher:  
> Belgemine: the summoner who helps train Yuna and unlock her summoning powers throughout the game  
> Lady Ginnem: the summoner Lulu guarded previously, who died in Yojimbo's cavern  
> Yojimbo: optional aeon, works for money  
> Magus Sisters: optional aeons, guarded by Belgemine, look like bugs. Mindy's the little black mage, Cindy's the large white mage, Sandy's the tall heavy hitter

_Ixion_

Yuna is a good girl, so when Daddy tells her to wake up very early one morning, she does so with a yawn and a sleepy smile. She doesn't complain when he brushes and braids her hair, even though it takes longer than when Mommy did it, and her braid is a little lumpy. She holds onto Uncle Auron's hand when Daddy tells her to, and only pulls and swings on his arm a few times during the long walk.

"Where are we going?" Yuna asks, tugging on Uncle Auron's hand. It's big, and she can only hold three of his fingers at a time.

"We're going to say goodbye to your mother," Uncle Auron says, and Yuna frowns at this. They aren't walking towards their home or the hospital.

"Mommy's leaving?" she asks. "When will she be back?"

Uncle Auron squeezes her hand. "Come along, Yuna," he says, his voice rough. It reminds her of when she makes him read her stories and he has to do the voice of a growly beast.

It's very pretty, when they reach the end of their walk. There's a big lake and lots of trees, and pretty blue flowers are floating on the water.

"Stay with Uncle Auron," Daddy says, and Yuna nods.

Uncle Auron finds a mossy spot under a tree and sits, cross-legged, drawing Yuna onto his lap. His arms wrap around her in a loose hug, and his chin balances on top of her head. He smells like soap and smoke, and he's warm against the morning wind. "Watch," he says simply, his voice echoing in her head.

Daddy begins to dance. He's very pretty, pretty like the flowers and the trees, and when he steps on the water he floats, just like the flowers. Yuna sees little glowing things rising out of the water and floating into the air.

Uncle Auron points over her shoulder at the glowing things, and whispers, "You should say goodbye to your mother now."

Yuna wants to ask what he means, but Daddy's stopped dancing and is waving at them, shouting, "Auron!"

Uncle Auron's on his feet before Yuna can even turn to see the Iguion creeping up behind them. He's holding Yuna in his left hand and his sword in his right, and the fiend may look scary up close, but she still knows it doesn't stand a chance.

A great horse comes crashing through the forest, its horn knocking the fiend away, and then a bright bolt of light zaps the fiend. It melts away into the water.

"Show off," Uncle Auron says, setting Yuna back on the ground.

The horse walks up to them, lowering its head, and Yuna reaches up to touch its horn. It's warm and flat, and something about the way the tip crackles and sparks reminds her of Mommy's secret toys from her home.

"Always did have a weakness for maidens, didn't you?" Uncle Auron grumbles, and Daddy smiles for the first time that day.

The horse turns and trots away, and Yuna chases it, laughing and dancing all the way. As she runs, the lights rise up and spin around her ankles, and she notices that her feet float on top of the water, just like Daddy.

She chases the horse until it disappears, but when she turns around to share her happiness with Daddy and Uncle Auron, they both look very, very sad.

***

_Valefor_

Seymour sneaks into Besaid Temple. It's not the right way to do things, he knows. You're supposed to go at the start of a summoner's journey, not on some diplomatic mission trying to curry favor with the last High Summoner's daughter.

You're supposed to have loyal guardians watching over you, not former Crusaders who'd be glad you were gone, except for how that would affect their pension.

You're not supposed to already have a Summon at your call.

You're not supposed to ask during the Calm.

He prays. He's very good at praying. He cups his hands around his heart, bows until his forehead touches the ground, and thinks just one word: Please.

It's not like the past _Please let me leave this place_ when he wishes for things _Please make my father proud of me_ that might happen _Please make my mother well_ or couldn't happen _Please, make me normal_. He just thinks _please, please, please._

"Boy," someone says.

Seymour's eyes whip open. A woman is standing in front of him.

She reminds him of his mother. It's a foolish thought--this woman is tan and short and dressed in the bright colors of the islands, but still. She reminds him of his mother.

"Boy, what are you doing here?"

Seymour's voice catches in his throat. "Are you Valefor?" he asks, after a moment.

The woman laughs, and it's a warm, inviting sound. "No," she says, "but I dream of Valefor."

"I want you to accept me," Seymour says, and presses his forehead to the floor again. "Please. _Please_."

A hand runs through his hair and rests on the back of his neck, rubbing lightly. His mother used to do that, when the growing pains got to be too much and his chest seized and scarred. "It is the Calm," she says. "Won't you rejoice and enjoy it? Won't you let us rest?"

"I know about Sin." There's a whine in Seymour's voice that he hates, and he can feel his jaw jutting out. "The Calm will end. The Calm always ends."

"Won't you wait for it to end?" She smoothes the hair at the base of his neck. Her hand is so gentle. "You are too young."

Seymour pulls away from her touch. "I know what I want," he snaps. _I want to die for Spira_ is what he wants to say, but all that comes out is, "I want to die," before his voice betrays him. "Please. Accept me."

"I cannot," she says. It is too simple a rejection.

He lifts his head, glares at her. He's been told his eyes are off-putting, too pale and cold, but she shows no reaction. "I know about Sin. I know what--who--Sin is. If you won't accept me, I'll tell everyone, I'll--"

"Please, child," the fayth says. "If you know of the final summoning, then you know why I cannot accept you. Are there any alive who would die for you?"

Seymour's chest feels like it is twisting, tearing. He looks away. "Not--" Not anymore, not--

"Then you will never complete the final summoning," the fayth says. "You must be content to _live_ your life, instead."

Seymour raises his head again to protest, but the chamber is empty.

And he thinks, if Spira will not accept him, will not even allow him to die for them, then perhaps there is another half to the final summoning.

***

_Ifrit_

Isaaru's first summoning is full of fire, and the heat nearly knocks him off his feet. Ifrit crashes to the ground, scorching the land, crumbling it under his fist, and through it all, Isaaru is laughing.

"Amazing. Amazing!" He stumbles to the beast, stretching his hands to touch its face. "You are simply amazing!" Its muzzle is smooth and warm, like dark stone left in the midday sun, and there is fire in its eyes.

"Maroda! Pacce!" He motions to his brothers, who step from the crowd. Maroda has an arm around Pacce, and has to push a little to make the child step forward.

Maroda bows formally, saying, "Thank you for accepting my brother. Please help me keep him safe from trouble." He pauses, checking to see if he has Isaaru's attention, then adds, more quietly, "He truly needs it."

Isaaru tries to scowl at that, though it doesn't have the right effect since he can't stop grinning.

"Pacce?" Maroda prompts, and bumps the boy forward when he hesitates again.

Isaaru's grin does falter at this, and he wonders, not for the first time, if Pacce is too young for the journey. He knows he was selfish for asking. He wonders if that should bother him more.

"Come here, Pacce." He takes Pacce's hand and presses it against Ifrit's ruff, showing him how the fur bends around his hand, how it rustles and flows like flames that don't burn.

"Wow…" Pacce's face lights up. "Can I name him?"

Isaaru nearly laughs, but disguises it with a coughing fit, covering his smile with a sleeve.

"He isn't a pet," Maroda says, but Isaaru notices that Ifrit is nodding.

"Go ahead, Pacce," Isaaru says.

Pacce bites his lip, deep in thought. Isaaru hopes he'll hurry--the strain of holding the summon is wearing on him.

"Grothia," Pacce says at last.

"Very well." Isaaru cups Ifrit's arm. "You may be everyone's Ifrit, but you're _our_ Grothia."

Ifrit nods, again, and disappears.

Isaaru knows he has maybe a year before he--before the final summoning. Only a short time before he leaves Pacce. He hopes that on their journey, they'll be able to build more good moments together, like this one.

***

_Shiva_

Dona is completely aware of what people think of her. Even by Kilika standards, her appearance is extreme, hers and Barthello's. She knows this.

She doesn't apologize, and no one asks her to. Not after the way the disgraced Summoner Braska bore their sneers and saved them, anyway, the poor sap. This moment is the first time Dona's ever pondered the appropriateness of her clothing, and that's only because the temple floor is so dreadfully cold.

"Oh, this is nonsense," she says, rising to her feet and trying to rub feeling back into her frozen shins. She snorts, and her breath hangs in the air like a cloud. "I was never any good at praying, anyway."

She trails a painted toe across the stone seal, leans her weight over it, drawing her arms into the air, and she falls into a dance. She dances, arms curling, head rocking, hips shaking from one sinuous move to the next.

She dances like she lives, not prim and chaste and half-dead like the other summoners she's met, but with the conviction that she's going to drain every last precious drop of life out of the short time she has before she--before she--

She missteps, starts to fall, but there are hands at her back, freezing cold yet supportive all the same. They let her lean back, farther than before, and she revels in the feeling of falling before righting herself with a spin.

Her partner spins as well, but Dona can feel her in the ice in her hair, the chill at her back. She spins again, and catches a glimpse of blue hair, and again, and Shiva is there.

The Aeon leans in close, brushing past Dona's face, leaving a chilly ghost of a kiss on her cheek, and Dona knows she's been accepted.

"Nicely done, darling," Dona says with a secretive smile, "though, to be honest, your dance could use a little more _hip_." She demonstrates that with a little added twist, and together, they dance on.

***

_Bahamut_

The first time Braska entered the inner sanctum of Bevelle's temple, he thought to himself that the blatant corruption and hypocrisy on display would be enough to make many summoners give up their faith. That he had continued on afterwards, he considered a testament to the conviction he had to save Spira.

Now, many years later, he knows exactly what it takes to make a summoner give up their pilgrimage, and he understands that his younger self had been naïve and, yes, an idiot.

He kneels on the floor and bows low enough for deference, but not enough to indicate total submission. He regulates his breathing, becoming so still all he can hear is the humming of the lights and the beating of his heart.

"Why are you here?" a voice asks--young, male, familiar.

"I have come to ask your favor," Braska says evenly.

"You earned it years ago," Bahamut's fayth says. For all its youth, the boy's voice has no emotion behind it. "Why are you here now?"

"To ask your favor, again," Braska says. "I abandoned my duties, my pilgrimage. I married an Al Bhed woman. I have committed heresies. Despite all this, I wish to return to my pilgrimage."

There is a pause, and Braska lets his request sit in the air.

"Why did you abandon your pilgrimage?" the fayth asks.

Hundreds of answers swirl through Braska's head. A pair of brilliant green eyes, a flash of a smile, a mind that was smart, so smart, she could talk circles around him and still make him feel bright and dizzy, how she was the first person who had ever asked him what he wanted from life and looked at him like she expected a true answer.

"I didn't want to die," Braska answers without shame.

"And now you do?" the boy asks, and at last there is a hint of emotion. Amusement, for some reason.

"Now, death is no longer my greatest fear." Braska rises from his bow, breaking protocol--but he's already broken so many rules, what's one more? Just one more thing for Auron to scold him about, he supposes. "My daughter. She's a summoner--or will be, at some point. She has the talent."

"You fear she will attempt the final summoning?" Bahamut's fayth asks.

Braska shakes his head. "No, I. Of course I fear that, but I fear her growing up in a world where she is expected to die, where people tell her everyday that it would be _good_ for her to die, for her to believe it, accept it--" He breaks off his words, remembering whom he is speaking to. "It is the most terrible feeling," he says quietly.

"I see," the fayth says, and there is no judgment in his voice. "And does your guardian feel the same way?"

"Auron…" Braska pauses in thought. "Auron is my most trusted friend. Where he does not agree, he at least understands."

Bahamut's fayth does not respond. He stands there, unnaturally still, like he's forgotten how to be human His eyes don't blink as he stares at Braska. His shoulders don't move because he doesn't breathe.

Braska bows again. "I meant no disrespect. I--"

"We are tired," the fayth says. "We. I just want to sleep without dreaming." Just this once, he sounds like a lost child.

"I'd like that as well," Braska says.

"Wait one week before your pilgrimage," the fayth says. "Wait until you find a second guardian. Then you may leave."

"And I will have your blessing?" Braska asks.

The chamber is empty, but Braska hears, quite clearly, "You have always had it."

***

_Yojimbo_

Lady Ginnem thinks that the sake tastes particularly sweet tonight. She's never tasted the stuff before, seeing how monks are the only ones to drink it and they guard their secrets closely, but still. She thinks the sake tastes particularly sweet tonight.

She thinks that the firelight seems awfully pretty tonight. Many would prefer the comforts of an inn, but she's always liked the peace and simplicity of sleeping outdoors. The fire splashes gold and crimson light on those around it, adding a pretty flush to Lulu's pale cheeks.

Lady Ginnem thinks that Yojimbo may be her favorite addition to the collection of Aeons at her call. She summoned him to deal with a fiend, and he stayed to share his drink and song. He croons softly, "Mother crow, why do you cry…" It's a song she hasn't heard before, but she holds onto each note so she will remember it when he leaves. He will ask for payment when he finishes, Ginnem suspects.

She thinks she may repay him with a kiss.

Yojimbo's dog grabs onto her staff and trots it up to its master, begging for it to be thrown. Lulu admonishes the pet and attempts to retrieve the staff. The dog circles around the fire, cutting across Lulu's ankles and through her skirts until she's dizzy from the chase.

Lady Ginnem thinks she may die laughing.

Lady Ginnem thinks all this because it is better than dying here, in this dark, underground cavern, alone.

***

_Magus Sisters_

Belgemine understands that she has failed. She brought forth the final summoning, saw it rushing towards Sin, felt her strength leave her, saw the final summoning fall apart moments before it could hit Sin.

Belgemine failed, and Belgemine died, and now…

She feels the tug at her soul, the knowledge that her life is done and she must let go of who she is, what she wants, or risk being corrupted. She knows she must do this.

Belgemine resists.

After some time, the tugging on her soul lessens. She stares at her hands in wonder. They seem just as solid, just as real as when she was alive.

The walk down the mountain is long and unstable. The way up had been difficult, pushing her way up the steep incline, but she had had--she had had help, then. She doesn't know what would happen to her if she fell into the ravine. She doesn't want to find out.

A pebble rolls beneath her foot, and she feels herself start to fall.

Someone catches her hand.

"Gotcha," Mindy says, and pulls her to her feet. She's hovering in the air over Belgemine's shoulder and grinning cutely.

"You should be more careful, dearie," Cindy says. She's behind Mindy, a bit higher on the path. Her antennae bobble in the breeze.

"We should hurry," Sandy says, who is standing on Belgemine's other side and acts as though she's always been there. "It looks like the clouds won't hold."

"What are you doing here?" Belgemine asks.

"You looked like you needed a hand," Mindy chirps.

"Helping you is part of our agreement," Cindy adds.

"I'm not a summoner anymore," Belgemine says.

"Right!" Mindy puts one hand on her hip and points the other right at Belgemine's face. "And that means you can't tell us what to do."

Belgemine laughs at that. "I never could."

"So it's settled," Mindy says. "We're all staying."

"I…" Belgemine takes a deep breath. "I don't want you to feel beholden to a fiend."

"Did you stay because you are angry?" Sandy asks. Her voice is smooth and quiet. "Do you despair?" The surprise must be evident on Belgemine's face, because she doesn't wait for her to reply. "Then you will not be a fiend."

"I just want to see the world," Belgemine says. "To learn new things and meet new people, to help new summoners the way I wish someone had helped me." She smiles. "Now that I'm dead, I just want to live."

"So do we," Cindy says, and ushers the others down the path.

The sun is setting on the mountain, and the sky is beautiful against the sharp spires of the ruins. Belgemine murmurs to herself, "So does everyone, I think."


End file.
